Waiting for Heaven to Fall
by Isis Lied
Summary: A series of unconnected drabbles for Blue Exorcist. Chapter 4- Armageddon: They are children carrying guns and praying to gods they don't believe in. Apocalypse AU
1. Chapter 1- Forgotten

Waiting for Heaven to Fall  
A series of unconnected drabbles for Blue Exorcist. Sometimes character studies, sometimes AU's, and sometimes total crack! I am taking requests! Chapter 1- Forgotten: There are times people forget Yukio is also a son of Satan. In which Yukio isn't the only one who knows how to lie behind a smile.

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Chapter 1- Forgotten

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It is no surprise that when cram school ends, Yukio Okumura is swarmed by his female fan base. Rin is jostled to the side, forgotten, as it normally goes. He is used to the routine; he'll either walk back to their dorm, sit in the park and pet Kuro, or merely watch from afar, knowing that it wouldn't take his twin too long to make up some petty excuse to leave.

This time, Rin decides to stay and watch, resting against the nearest tree in the immaculate courtyard. Cram school ended late into the afternoon, but the girls didn't seem to care. They'd see the pair walk out of the main hall of True Cross, whisper amongst themselves about the freshman class president, before working up the courage to talk to him.

And it wasn't really their fault; Yukio made no attempt to hinder their behavior. He'd give a warm smile, bright eyes gazing at each individual girl before entertaining some harmless chit-chat. He would steer the conversation away from what exactly Cram School was ('an extracurricular program for only a certain type of 'student' was his general answer) and towards easier topics, like favorite foods, movies he'd watched recently, and his studies.

Rin noted all of this somewhat bitterly, legs pulled to his chest. He would be lying if he didn't say he was somewhat envious. His brother had it all: the brains, the looks, and the charisma. But, what he didn't have was even more important; the flames.

He was a son of Satan too, born from the same maniacal god of Gehenna. Yet, no one seemed to notice.

The Vatican had him working as a second-class exorcist, the youngest to achieve that rank. They trusted him on solo missions, allowed him to move freely, and there was no penalty of death over his head if he were to snap.

The cram students, who even after finding out the truth, treated him the same. While Rin was a social pariah, no one said a word about Yukio's heritage. No flames meant no danger.

"Sorry about that nii-san." Yukio apologizes after giving the final girl a goodbye. He has an armful of chocolates (Rin just faintly recalls it being White day) and looks quizzically at his uncharacteristically silent brother.

The dark-haired teen merely grunts in return, hands pushed lazily in his pockets. He stands, stretches out his arms with a yawn, and follows Yukio back to their dorm.

"Are you alright, Rin?" The cerulean-eyed prodigy finally asks after finding the boy tucked in his bed, a demonology textbook propped in his lap.

He gives a smile, revealing sharp teeth. "I'm fine, four-eyes." His gaze returns to the book, lips silently whispering out the words. It is when he gets to the Nebarius, the rotting dogs that attacked him with his father- adopted father, that he abruptly shuts the book and turns off the lamplight beside him.

"G'night, Yukio." He mumbles, ducking his face under the viridian covers.

"Goodnight, Rin."

And all the lights flicker off, leaving only the moonlight for vision. With Kuro curled at his feet and the soft snores of his brother ringing in his ears, Rin Okumura stares forward at the ceiling, demon eyes already adjusted to the darkness.

_I'm fine... I'm fine... I'm... fine..._ He repeats in his head. He repeats and repeats until it is morning and he pretends to still be asleep when Yukio's alarm clock goes off. He repeats it through class, even as the chapter about demon kings and their ruler, Satan, are discussed in cram school. And he repeats it when the girls swarm Yukio yet again, ignoring the boy cursed with blue flames.

He is a paradox: both the _forgotten_ and the remembered. A human and a monster. Cursed and blessed with power.

Yukio doesn't seem to notice and Rin continues to smile.

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A/N: This is basically a place for me to drop off plot bunnies/the like to keep me focused. If I can't update an already existing ANE fic I'll probably just add something here, meaning that updates will be sporadic at best. Chaps will be of various lengths, but none should be too ridiculously long. These are all based on one word prompts, so if you guys have any ideas, please drop a word/idea in your review and I'll see what I can do :3 Anyway, not all chaps will be this angsty, but I hope it was enjoyable, nevertheless!  
_**  
Review?**_

-Isis


	2. Chapter 2- Trust

Summary: It wasn't every day that a friendly demon comes barreling into your home. Good thing Izumo carries pepper-spray. AU Izumo/Rin

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Chapter 2- Trust

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Izumo Kamiki had never really believed the whole 'locking your windows thing.' Even living in the bustling city, the purple-haired girl found no reason to shut her windows at night; she had pepper-spray and a black belt. It isn't until a blue-eyed teen with messy hair and sharp teeth barrels through the open window that she thinks investing in locks might actually be a good idea.

Her first reaction is to call the cops. Or the mental illness wing of the nearest hospital. The boy is dazed, mumbling something about running from some clingy, deity-worshipping hobgoblins when two small flames flicker over his head, acting like horns. Izumo has never been the superstitious type either, but it seems like the kid is planning to erase all her pre-conceived notions of the world.

"Sorry about jumping through your window— OUCH!" He howls in surprise, feeling himself pushed back into the bushes outside. He appears a second later, spluttering out leaves and twigs, cobalt orbs wide and accusatory.

"T-that hurt!"

The girl can only roll her eyes. "Then don't come jumping into girl's bedrooms in the dead of night." She won't apologize for pushing the stranger from the windowsill; he was the one trespassing, after all.

It is dark, but she can see the faint sheen of pink that dusts his cheeks. He's embarrassed; cute, except it's still two-o'clock in the morning and the commute to True Cross College is an hour long and—

"Can I hide here? Maybe in your closet or something?" He asks, casually stepping over the windowsill and entering the carpeted room. He notices a wall of stuffed animals and snickers to himself, padding over to what he assumed was her closet.

"Are you insane?! Get the hell out of my house!" Izumo barks, gesturing to the open window.

The youth just chuckles, snapping his fingers. The window closes shut immediately. "Thanks, Kuro."

She has no idea who Kuro is, but the fact that the window seemingly closed by itself was enough to make her reach into her desk and pull out her pepper spray.

"Why are you here?" She tries again, noticing now that the dark-haired teen also has a tail— which swayed lackadaisically from side to side. He turns around, holding up two hands in a sign of peace.

"Whoa, you don't have to be scared. The name's Rin Okumura. I just need a place to hide out for a bit."

Izumo mulls over the boy's words, analyzing his fanged grin and swaying tail. For a moment, she entertains the notion that he is an escaped lab experiment— until he trips over his own two feet and face-plants into the closet door. The pepper-spray remains unused at her side.

Begrudgingly, she nods her head; maybe it's the full moon or the monotony of her life, but in the few short minutes she'd known Rin her life had become leagues more interesting. The boy smiles warmly and without thinking, gives her a hug. She freezes for a moment, crimson eyes wide in surprise.

It's when he pulls back, offers another blushing smile, and scoots into the corner of her closet that she fully understands the absurdity of the situation. And then Rin says something else.

"I should probably mention that I'm the son of Satan."

Five minutes later and the boy is curled up in the closet, using a few extra blankets and a pillow as a makeshift bed. He is still nursing the pepper-spray 'wound' as he calls it, but eventually falls asleep, soft snores escaping his lips.

Unbeknownst to him, Izumo smiles, sliding the closet door shut. It wasn't every day you had a demon sleeping in your closet.

Moving back to her own bed, Izumo ponders if she had always been this trusting and naïve. She immediately shrugs it off, because she's still the same cold-hearted woman with a penchant for cute things. If anything, it was probably just because he was the spawn of Satan that he could somehow worm his way into her home.

It would be much, much later, that she would think the same reason as to how he wormed his way into her heart.

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A/N: Dumb, short, cheezy drabble is dumb and short and cheezy XD still, it was Rin/Izumo so it has to count for something, right? Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed it!

_**Review?**_

-Isis


	3. Chapter 3- Almost

Summary: The twins are five years old when Shiro Fujimoto reflects on what almost happened on the night of their birth.

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Chapter 3- Almost

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"Otou-san! Otou-san!" The twins chime together, clambering towards the dining table with excited glee. The reverend shakes his head, a smile on his lips as Rin tugs impatiently at his coat.

"Can we blow out the candles now?"

Yukio nods in agreement, pushing up the rim of his glasses. "Please, otou-san?"

The silver-haired man makes a great show of pretending to ponder their request, at one point sticking a finger towards the frosting.

"No!" They squeal, pulling on his legs simultaneously.

"You have to blow out the candles first before you take a bite!" Yukio informs while Rin dives into the nearest chair. Fingers splayed across the table, he uses his other hand to help his twin up, both sharing the same seat. They twist impatiently, both gasping at the sight of their shared birthday cake.

"Wow!"

"Cool!"

Shiro grins wider, placing the white, strawberry-adorned cake in front of them. He then pulls out his camera, shuffling over to the opposite side of the table where the other clergy men watched the twins with similar looks of adoration. Everyone in the monastery loved Rin and Yukio, that much was obvious.

"Okay, okay, you two can blow out the candles now." He affirms, chuckling as the boys nod together.

"One." Rin starts, moving over slightly to give Yukio more space.

"Two." Yukio chirps, rubbing his nose in an attempt not to sneeze.

"Three!" They say simultaneously, both taking in a deep breath and blowing. At the same time, the priest takes the picture, capturing the heartwarming moment. The candles shake at the force of their combined breaths (which Shiro assumed was Rin's doing) but remain fixed in place until the pair is done.

There is clapping all around as Shiro moves back to the kitchen counter, picking up the sharp knife. He moves towards the cake, placing the edge of the blade over the creamy frosting before a small voice complains.

"I want to cut it!" Rin says, pouting at his adopted father. Yukio seems content in letting Shiro cut the cake, but nods anyway, pointing expectantly at Rin. With a sigh, the silver-haired man relents, steadying the knife into Rin's hands. He then places his own two hands over Rin's, guiding the boy to make smooth, precise cuts.

The piece of cake is moved onto a plate as the cobalt-eyed child grins, scooping it up.

"You first, otou-san!" Rin chirps, holding out the plate. The man, somewhat shocked, takes the cake with a warm smile. He then allows Rin to cut more slices with his help. The boy hands the slices out to Yukio and then the rest of the clergymen before taking a piece for his own.

The kitchen is filled with laughter and glee as the whole church celebrates their birthday. Rin gets cake all over Shiro's coat when he goes to give a hug, not that the priest really minded. Yukio wipes his hands clean before taking the dishes to the sink, also giving their father a quick hug.

"Thank you!" They say together, rushing out of the kitchen to play with their new toys. The clergymen follow, led by the boys to help them play.

It is when Shiro begins cleaning off the blade that he catches the twins' reflection behind him, of the pair sitting together and playing with their new plastic train. He pauses and thinks on what almost happened that day, five years ago.

The Kurikara weighed heavy in his hands, the sound of crying filling the air. He sees the twins, one covered in blue flames and the other deathly pale. He moves the blade over the squirming, blue-flamed baby's chest, crimson eyes narrowed in the effort to keep his hands from shaking.

He almost pushes down, but in the second before doing so the sword catches the reflection of a gurgling baby boy. The baby reaches out a chubby hand, giggling as his large, blue eyes gazed happily at him. It is then that he throws the sword towards Mephisto, shaking his head.

"They aren't monsters. They're children. They deserve a chance; I don't give a damn what the Vatican says."

The demon chuckles in response.

Returning to present time, Shiro Fujimoto just finishes up washing the dishes when the boys run up excitedly behind him.

"Guess what we found on the porch!" Rin cheers, both hands tucked suspiciously behind his back. Shiro turns to Yukio, who looks as excited as Rin.

"What?" He crouches down, holding out his hands. The boys push a stuffed animal into his awaiting arms.

And the priest has to stifle a laugh; it is a familiar white dog with green eyes, polka-dotted bow tied around his neck.

It seemed that Mephisto had fallen for the kids as well, in his own, unusual way.

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A/N: Yay for cutesy child!Rin and child!Yukio fluff! Also, I can't imagine the twins not getting gifts from Mephy. I imagine Shiro explained it as gifts from their 'uncle' or something, lol :P  
_**  
Review?**_

-Isis


	4. Chapter 4- Armageddon

Summary: They are children carrying guns and praying to gods they don't believe in. Apocalypse AU

Warning: A decent amount of gore and violence in this drabble. OOC!Rin. You have been warned.

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Chapter 4- Armageddon

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One day, the world ended.

The earth split apart, torn asunder by coils of blue flames. Most thought that would be the end of it. That the flames would swallow everything and everyone, burn until nothing but smoldering ash remained. But slowly, the flames receded, revealing a crater the size of a small country. Dotted in monstrous eyes and cackling heads, the Gehenna Gate roared to life in its horrific, frankenstein way.

At first, the area surrounding the Gate (the part of the city that hadn't fallen into it) was put on lock-down; the crater, as it had looked to those not in the immediate area, was releasing some sort of contagion that caused hallucinations. The people screamed of monsters with devil-tails, winged beasts the size of skyscrapers, and mythical dragons. A disease of madness, some said.

Their words were lost in the sudden deaths of thousands, when people appeared to be strung up on telephone poles, innards trailing down sunny suburban sidewalks. Some were half-eaten, limbs twisted in impossible angles across seemingly earthquake-hit areas. Storms of dust blanketed towns, revealing nightmarish beasts that clawed through windows and barricades with meter-long talons and crimson eyes.

The 'disease' spread until the whole world could see the monsters. It was then that the flames revealed the true monster. A beast that burned everything in its path; the first of the humanoid demons.

The Vatican stepped in soon after the beast's reveal. Giving a name to the monsters (demons— fitting, in a way) and calling the disaster the beginning of Armageddon, civilians were rushed to shelters across the exorcist Order. Then, the real exorcists were called.

They are children carrying guns and praying to gods they don't believe in.

Thrust into turmoil, the children hold to their sutras and incantations as hard as they grip the semi-automatic rifles in their hands. At least the beasts are no longer invisible— a month after the Gehenna Gate appeared and the whole world could see the monsters.

Each group of demons was led by their leader. The King of Earth, Amaimon, led his army of hobgoblins and earth-spirits with a sadistic glee, cutting through villages and towns. There was no order or plan in his attacks— merely unbridled chaos at the claws of an apathetic looking monster with enough blood on his hands to fill an ocean. The earth shifted under his pointed feet, the tectonic plates shifting together in horrible seizures of power that caused buildings to topple, trees to split in half, and drop people into the horrible magma depths of the world.

The King of Time and Space marched at a charming tune, leading his army with a chuckle. He could slaughter half the world in seconds— or have them suffer for millenniums, given his mood. Unlike his brother, Samael barely had a spot of blood on him. His white jester suit remained pristine, unwrinkled and without a single thread out of place.

Combined with the power of Lucifer, the King of Light, who brought plagues of angels upon the land, bursts of light that could swallow an entire continent (but the kings are nothing if patient—besides, what fun is a war without a little build up?), the exorcists stood little chance. Not including the other kings, which shifted between the Gate with less fanfare and carnage, and Assiah seemed like a hopeless cause. A cause to be swept away by smoldering cobalt flames.

Yet they held onto their hopes, however fruitless, that their world could be saved. Even when the leader of them all, a bright-eyed youth with dark hair and a smile that at first glance seemed almost friendly— until it twisted into the haughtiest sneer a human face could give, stepped out of the Gate in a sea of flames.

"Ya know, I didn't think war would be this fun!"

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She's running. The forest is dark and winding, but with the sudden bursts of blue around her, she knows she's stepped into a landmine. Other exorcists cry out in the blackness of night, bodies illuminated for a brief, fleeting moment until the heat of the flames burn them to ash. The blonde presses on, even when she sees a familiar pair of red glasses, cracked and bloodied beside a burnt body.

_Away from the light. Away from the flames. _Her mind chants even as she trips, summoning paper falling from the pocket of her shirt. She scrambles for the paper in the dark, knowing that even the briefest of mistakes could mean the end. Her greenman familiar, who squeaked frantically behind her, tugged at her blonde locks. A wall of flames approached, quick and deadly in their approach. The trees turned to blackened sticks, cracking with a thunderous roar as she scrambled to her feet.

"Now, now, what do we have here?" A chilling voice mocked, a flash of cobalt just missing her arm. Shiemi ran faster, ducking under branches until the forest rolls away, leaving a burning field. The wall of flame is nowhere in sight.

The monster is in the clearing, a katana glowing with flames in his hand. She turns to dart back into the pseudo-safety of the forest but the beast is beside her, bright eyes shining with glee.

"What's your name, tamer?" He questions, plucking the greenman from her hair. The little familiar struggles in the demon's grasp until it burns in flames, ash billowing in the breeze.

_Stay strong. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry—_

The tears feel as hot as flames as the girl breaks down, falling to her feet. Memories of a time before the Gate, when she sat in her grandmother's garden, tending to the flowers with joy swim past her emerald orbs. But those times are long gone— gone with the innocence in her eyes. She has survived this long— longer than any thought she would.

Longer than she should have.

"Well?" The demon questions again, a surprising calmness in his voice. She wishes it was more barbaric, harsher, something that didn't sound like a friendly hum. Something that didn't make her think they could have been friends in another time, another world.

So Shiemi shakes her head, fighting the tears again. She wouldn't die crying— she'd be strong like Izumo, like Bon, like the red-headed exorcist who died protecting them from a wall of flames made by the same detestable monster in front of her.

The demon sneers, waltzing away with a languid yawn. "Okay, Miss Tamer. I'll just ask your friends. I should get my answer then, right?"

She doesn't get to respond before he is gone, a blur of cobalt flames against the suffocating darkness. In it, the girl is unable to rise to her feet.

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He brings the bodies back like a housecat with a dead rat in its mouth.

Izumo is beheaded, crimson eyes forever etched wide with fear. Bon is cut in half, a clean slice that leaves bits of burning flesh to drip from his torso. Shima has his mouth wretched open, gutted from the inside like a pig. Takara, who Shiemi had only known in passing, had his eyes gouged out, one eyeball in the demon's outstretched hand like a present. And then there is Yuki-chan, the bespectacled exorcist who taught them all how to use weapons and recite prayers and—

He looks the most peaceful of the group, eyes closed, hands folded at his chest. If it wasn't for the blood that traced his mouth she could almost pretend he was just sleeping.

"He was fun. I burned his organs from the inside. He gave the best dying screams I've ever heard." The blue-eyed monster comments, dropping all the bodies at her feet. He takes another step forward, pressing a clawed hand to the blonde's chin in an almost tender gesture. She shivers.

"Goodbye, Shiemi Moriyama." There is a grin on his face and his tail flicks happily in the ash-ridden breeze as he thrusts a hand into her chest and removes her heart.

They are children carrying guns and praying to gods they don't believe in— and they couldn't stop the apocalypse.

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A/N: So this turned out gorier and more depressing than I thought it would. Hope this was an interesting drabble, at least!

_**Review?**_

-Isis


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